


January 6, 2012

by Jenny_Starseed



Series: Celebrations Series (Sherlock/Lestrade) [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Celebrations, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Starseed/pseuds/Jenny_Starseed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade has brought cake. Sherlock is predictably unenthused.</p><p>Written before series two aired, so no spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	January 6, 2012

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt on the Sherlock Rare Pair Fest that just asked for Sherlock/Lestrade Celebrating. A companion piece to New Year’s, 3AM. This fic is as sweet and pink as Sherlock's unfortunate birthday cake. Enjoy.
> 
> Written before series two aired, so no spoilers.
> 
> None of these characters are mine. Unbeta-ed and Unbrit-picked.

_____________________________________________

“Lestrade, what are you doing here?” asked John when he opened the door of 221B to find Lestrade at his door.

“Ah, the infuriating git didn’t tell you did he?” asked Lestrade affectionately. He held out a box tied with ribbon for John to see. “I’ve brought cake.”

“Cake for what?”

“John! Stop interrogating the poor Detective Inspector and let him in,” called out Sherlock from the sitting room.

John did so, numbly shutting the door behind him as Lestrade entered the flat to put the box down in the kitchen.

“It’s Sherlock’s birthday today,” replied Lestrade with a cheeky grin. “Thirty-five today and he still pouts like a twelve year old. Come in here you silly sod! I’ve brought you cake and candles.”

“He never told me that,” said John in dismay.

“Of course he wouldn’t,” replied Lestrade. “Because he knows I will conspire with you to do this to him every year. God knows the posh git embarrasses me enough throughout the year, this is just my petty little revenge.”

Sherlock petulantly entered the kitchen with John following behind. Lestrade gave Sherlock a chaste kiss on the cheek before undoing the ribbon and taking the cake out of the box. It was a chocolate cake with decorative pink and violet roses.

“Sorry, it was the last cake they had in the shop,” said Lestrade, though he didn’t sound very sorry.

“Liar. You picked out this cake intentionally,” accused Sherlock.

“That I won’t deny,” said Lestrade with a grin. “Serves you right, you hidden your birthday from me for four years. I am determined to make a bloody fool of you for that alone.”

“We don’t have any candles,” said Sherlock shortly.

“No need, I brought them with me,” said Lestrade, taking a small packet of them out of his pocket.

He put ten of them around the cake, carefully lighting each one. The candles gave a warm glow to the dying winter light of the dim kitchen. With cheeky smiles and loud cheeriness, John and Lestrade loudly sang happy birthday to Sherlock as Sherlock covered his eyes with his hand in embarrassment.

“Happy Birthday!” they cried.

Sherlock reluctantly blew out the candles. Lestrade and John loudly clapped and yelped in joy.

“Did you make a wish?” asked John. He got out some plates and forks while Lestrade cut the cake.

“No need to make a wish,” said Sherlock with a sulk. “It was obvious that it didn’t come true the minute this idiot was at my door harassing me with candles and cake.”

“Don’t be such a baby Sherlock,” shot Lestrade. “I’ve brought your favourite cake from your favourite bakery. It is chocolate with a hint of espresso, generously coated with white chocolate butter cream.”

“If this is my favourite cake, then why are there pink and violet roses littering the cake?” retorted Sherlock.

Lestrade smiled smugly. “Revenge. John, give Sherlock the slice with the biggest pink rose.”

“This one here?” asked John, showing him the slice.

“Yup, that’s the one,” answered Lestrade as he took the plate and put it in front of Sherlock with a fork. Sherlock was still frowning petulantly with his arms crossed.

“Come on Sherlock, don’t be such a spoil sport,” pleaded Lestrade gently. “It is your favourite, with or without the pink rose.”

“Fine,” responded Sherlock after a prolonged childish pause.

Lestrade and John settled down to eat their cake. Sherlock ate the cake with quiet methodical relish. It really was his favourite and he couldn’t hold the childish grudge for long. He murmured an awkward thank you.

“You’re very welcome, Sherlock,” said Lestrade quietly.

The three of them eventually fell into an easy banter about the statistical crime rate of London. John could only sigh. The two were always so obsessed their work, they were probably together because no one else could handle their work-aholicism. After the cake was finished and the left over slices were put away in the refrigerator, the three of them settled on the sofa for a night of bad telly.

After the third hour of crap television, Lestrade announced that he was leaving for the night. He had to get up early for work tomorrow. Sherlock showed him out the door. He kissed Lestrade softly.

“Thank you,” Sherlock said very quietly against Lestrade’s ear. “Don’t be a stranger and come by tomorrow. You won’t regret it.”

Lestrade felt himself flush at those soft words and quickly left 221 B Baker Street with a hasty goodnight. Happy birthday indeed.


End file.
